


search the dictionary for confectionery (and you'll find my name)

by averagebidentist



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Mipha/Zelda - Freeform, Everybody is hylian, Family Issues, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagebidentist/pseuds/averagebidentist
Summary: There's a new bakery in town, and Revali isn't sure how to feel about it.
Relationships: Link/Revali (Legend of Zelda), Mipha & Revali (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 195





	1. unpeeled slices of orange & lime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali meets Link, not knowing he's the new baker across the street

It begins with a fruitcake.

Which Revali finds utterly scandalous, because what kind of a cake is a fruitcake? Clearly not one made by a professional. You have to specify what type of fruit is in the cake. Never in his life has Revali come up with a creation so vague as a  _ fruit _ cake.

He sees a slice of orange placed neatly on top of each slice of cake, along with several types of sweet berries, and to his disgust, a slice of lime.

That is no fruitcake. It is a horrifying combination of fruits that have flavours that oppose each other, placed on top of a plain vanilla cake - which Revali is certain would taste bland, given how whoever created this abomination clearly had no knowledge on baking whatsoever.

Revali crosses his arms across his chest, turning away from the cake behind the bakery’s display window.

Well, to call it a bakery would be overselling it. It looks more like a home baker got a cheap rental price off the landlord and decided to showcase their baking skills, which clearly belongs back in their home, never to see the light of day.

But then again, he doubts anyone could get a cheap rental price anywhere in Hyrule City. He is well aware that his own rental is far from cheap, which was partially why his confectioneries have to be high quality for the public to view them as high value, and for him to be able to sell them at high profit.

He stalks back to his side of the street.

It shouldn’t bother him that there is a new bakery established on the same street as his, but it does. And he isn’t so sure that it is simply because of the fruitcake, rather the fact that he can still see the offending cake staring at him as he turned his door sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. Revali is more bothered that the new bakery opened just within his sights - not directly opposite his store, no, that spot was taken by Mipha’s flower shop some years ago - right next to the florist’s, so that everytime Revali steps out of his kitchen it is the first thing he sees.

It is the second day since the new bakery kicked off, and so far Revali has only seen a blonde haired girl by the cash register who sometimes disappears into the kitchen, only to reappear with a tray of freshly baked goods. He presumes there is a baker behind the scenes, and that the loaves do not mystically materialize from thin air.

Though that would explain why the fruitcake was so oddly flavoured. Supernatural magics probably did not have the good sense nor taste buds to know that unpeeled slices of oranges and lime should never go on a cake.

That said, Revali has yet to meet this new baker thus far. Perhaps that was for the best. He would not be able to restrain himself from criticizing them to their face if he had actually met this person.

The windchime by the door rings, and the day’s first patron walks in.

Thoughts of the newly established bakery were soon cast aside as Revali took the client’s order of a large batch of cupcakes with a specific decoration theme. He took note of the flavours and details the cupcakes were set to have, as well as a due date, and by the end of the conversation, he leaves the client with a price range and a promise.

After the first customer takes off, he retreats to the kitchens to bring out a birthday cake that is due for pick up later that day. It is grandiose both in size and form, and the decorations would require a good few hours to complete even with his experience and speed.

By the time he finishes piping icing and arranging every little tempered chocolate detail onto the cake, his stomach grumbles lightly to remind him that it was lunch time.

The windchime rings once more, and Revali is so sure that it was Mr Deku who had come to pick up his chocolate cake order that he had nearly greeted the individual without first making sure it was his client.

“Good to see you, Mr -”

No, last he remembered, Mr Deku did not have shoulder length blond hair, nor did he habitually donned bright blue tunics that matched his bright blue eyes, and he certainly was not a lean - almost scrawny - young man around Revali’s age.

He cuts himself off and hummed as the figure approached.

“My apologies, I admit I was expecting someone else. We have not met, have we? I am Master Baker Revali, proud owner of -”

The individual isn’t even looking at him!

He has his phone in his hands and is typing on it as Revali gawked at how impolite the behaviour was. Just as he is about to comment on how ill-mannered people are not welcomed in his confectionery, the young man holds his phone up to Revali, and on its screen read a single word typed out in a notepad app.

“Link?” asks Revali, confused. “Link what?”

He lets out a quiet chuckle and briefly shakes his head. Then he holds his thumbs up and pointed at himself.

Realization dawns on Revali.

“Your name is Link?”

Link nods, and the smile that graced his features is almost enough to tug the corners of Revali’s lips up as well.

It is then Revali realizes this Link person was actually not too bad to look at, with his tapering jaw and pointed ears, flanked by golden blond locks that he neglected to tie up in his ponytail. He appears to be more on the short side, but Revali isn’t very tall himself, so as long as he does not have to look up to meet Link’s eyes on level plane, he is content.

His eyes gradually wanders south from Link’s facial features, and when Link shifts to type on his phone, it snaps Revali out of his fleeting daydream, reminding him that he was still at work.

‘I’m new to the area,’ the screen reads, ‘and your bakery stood out to me.’

“Well, of course it has,” Revali preened. He likes where this conversation is going. “My confectionery is the most renowned in all of Hyrule City, and for good reason -”

But Link is typing away again.

“You know, for someone who isn’t actually saying anything, you have a lot to say.” He is aware he may have sounded a bit tactless, but he isn’t the one who kept interrupting other people’s sentences.

‘I would like two servings of each cake you have at the display window, please.’

Revali blinks.

Right, work.

“Of course.” Revali reaches under the counter for the takeaway boxes he keeps in store for walk-in customers, which are rare these days as he took on more custom orders, and consequently lesser time for ready-baked goods for the general public. “For the record, because I do not want you to leave here thinking these are simply cakes, they are called petit fours. While today’s selection  _ are _ of the more glazed cake variety, there are other varieties that do not compose or resemble cake at all.”

He places the takeaway box on the counter, careful so that the goods inside remain separate instead of sticking to each other. As the words tumble out, he abruptly remembers the newly established bakery across the road, with the fruitcake that Revali would not call a cake at all. He isn’t one to badmouth a fellow baker’s work, but for that atrocity to have unpeeled slices of oranges and lime that aren’t even candied -

“Be careful where you acquire your cakes, Link. Not all bakeries feature edible ones, though they may seem so at first glance.” Revali knows he sounds grim, which may be slightly over the top to the layman considering this is about cake, but he will say what had to be said and he would feel no remorse over it.

As Link finishes paying and types out a quick  _ thank you _ on his phone, Revali thought he glimpsed a glint of mirth in his eyes. Or perhaps amusement? It is as if Link knows something he does not.

He can’t quite place what it is, but it lingers in his mind - thoughts of Link, of the fruitcake - it irks him.


	2. zucchini, chives, & cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali meets Link, fully aware he's the new baker this time around

The next morning finds Revali browsing the display window of the new bakery again. He isn’t lurking, per se, he is simply trying to be subtle about scouting out the competition.

No, competition would imply that he is attempting to establish superiority. There is no question that Revali’s bakery is far superior.

It is early in the day, still a good quarter of an hour to go before his store was due to open, but it seems this other bakery has been up and running for a good while now. Today’s selection of breads appears normal - a basic loaf of banana bread, a loaf with honey and oats, and another topped with chopped almonds. Perhaps he was quick to judge the fruitcake from the day before.

Then he sees the zucchini placed behind a greenish yellow-looking loaf, and he immediately takes back his previous thought. The entire length of vegetable sat unsliced next to a block of cheese, with a few strands of what looks to be chives arranged artfully against them.

A scandalized expression crosses Revali’s face. He starts searching around the bread hoping to find a label like he had with the other loaves, but this particular loaf was without one. Usually, whatever is placed with the bread is what went _ into _ the bread. Upon closer inspection, he could see tiny chopped pieces of zucchini clustered in a dense matrix of dough, and the center of it almost looks underbaked and raw.

Revali holds a fist up to his mouth and gags. Who in their right mind would combine a watery vegetable with dairy product, in a baked good nonetheless? And the bigger question is: who in their right mind would  _ eat _ it?

“Lovely morning we’re having today,” a feminine voice calls out in his direction. Revali’s head instinctively shoots up to find a blonde haired girl leaning out from behind the door. She looks familiar. “Come in and have a look at today’s breakfast loaves, they’re all freshly baked, I’m certain you’ll find something you like,” she continues, a warm smile on her face.

The nametag pinned against her chest reads ‘Zelda’. Ah, this must be the girl he saw behind the cash register.

“I think I’ll pass. I’ve already found something I don’t like,” Revali says drily.

He watches as her brows furrowed in a frown. Then to his surprise, she laughs.

“I assume you’re referring to the zucchini and cheddar breakfast loaf? Come,” she beckons, “I’ll get you a sample slice. I promise it tastes better than it looks.”

Revali could not understand how Zelda was remaining good humoured about this.

“Unbelievable,” he scoffs, crossing his arms in front of him. “It should be common knowledge - no, common sense - that anything with high water content should never go into a bread.”

Zelda hums. “We did dry out a majority of the moisture from the zucchini before incorporating into the bread, so it shouldn’t pose much of an issue.”

“Even so, I simply do not understand how the bitterness of cheddar and the sharp, pungent flavour of chives would work as a combination. Where do such horrendous notions even come from?”

Somewhere between Revali subconsciously following her into the store and Zelda retrieving the zucchini bread from the window, she had sliced a healthy portion and packaged it into a paper bag.

“We try to come up with new flavour combinations each day. A bit of excitement to the taste buds is never a bad thing to look forward to,” she says, pushing the paper bag across the counter and into Revali’s hands.

_ Hold on, _ he wants to say,  _ I have no intention of eating that, so put that back where it came from or so help me. _

But Zelda continues, “I say ‘we’, but really it’s Link who does most of the baking.”

Wait. _ Link? _

The kitchen door creaks open as if on cue, and Link nudges it wider with his shoulder, stepping out with a tray of freshly glazed doughnuts. Even with an entire stretch of counters between them, Revali can see the glistening beads of perspiration rolling off his forehead, his hair tied messily into a bun that threatened to fall apart any moment. The temperature in the bakery suddenly resembles the temperature of a heated oven. It was suffocating for Revali to learn that the boy he had found quite pleasing to the eyes the day before was the same boy who seems to have his heart set on inventing monstrous flavour combinations in his baking.

Revali is many things, but at present he is shaken and at a lost for words.

Link, on the other hand, seems unphased at discovering who was in his bakery. Setting the tray of doughnuts aside, he ran a hand through his hair, sweeping his fringe out of his eyes before waving enthusiastically at Revali. The grin on Link’s face feels like a clench around Revali’s heart. For a split second, his lungs forget how to breathe, the muscles that control his jaw movement forget how to contract, and his mouth hangs open in a little ‘o’.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zelda glance between the two of them, finally settling to look directly at Link.

“Do you know each other?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

Link begins signing in response.

Crap, he has no idea what Link was saying to her. The only knowledge Revali had pertaining sign language was the basic ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ and ‘thank you’ - and Link was definitely not signing any of these.

It feels like an eternity as Revali watched Link explain, watched as an amused expression cross Zelda’s features, watched as Link’s hands began to slow in their movements and his cheeks seemingly redden - and Revali couldn’t figure out which part of ‘the baker from across the street’ would take so long to sign.

Was he saying something negative about Revali? Oh Hylia, he must be telling Zelda this is the person who insulted his fruitcake. To his face, nonetheless.

Revali is mortified. He has to get out of there.

“You know,” Revali sputters, and he hates that his voice sounds a pitch higher than it normally is, “It just occurred to me that a client of mine should be coming in right about now, so I really must be going.”

He turns and dashes out of Link and Zelda’s bakery like his life depended on him getting away as quick as possible. He does not want to know what their reaction was like - likely shocked, but he doesn’t turn to confirm his suspicions.

It was just his luck that the one person he confided regarding his thoughts on the damned fruitcake is the same person who baked the fruitcake. He still maintains that citrus fruits should always be, at the very least, candied if they were going on a cake. He doesn’t plan on retracting what was rightfully said, especially with his expertise in baking.

In his panic, he hasn’t realized the paper bag with the zucchini bread was still clutched tightly in his fist, not until he slams the door to his confectionery close and goes to put his keys away that he realizes he brought the bread back with him.

Sighing, he deposits it by the cash register. The noise the paper bag makes was a loud thing compared to the silence in his confectionery. Which was supposed to be normal. Day in and day out for the past few years, the only noises that broke the quiet atmosphere were the windchime, the clients, and occasionally Mipha coming in when her brother was around to run the flower store.

The silence today, though, is deafening. It resembles nothing of the peaceful quiet Revali enjoyed when he baked. He isn’t sure why he was so bothered about finding out Link being the new baker across the street. What did it matter now that he knew that Link knew he didn’t like the idea of his fruitcake? Revali only just  _ met  _ him. He never cared about wounding someone else’s feelings, as long as he voiced what he believed was right.

So what made this blond haired boy any different?

Revali clenched his teeth, willing his mind to cage the thoughts away.

He isn’t completely dishonest when he claimed he had to leave due to a client. It’s just the client wasn’t coming in until noon, and he had plenty of time to spare until then.

He spends a bulk of those hours working on creating bread dough, purposely choosing the types that require extensive kneading and making them not by batch, but by loaf. Every time he finishes kneading for a particular flavour loaf, he tosses it in the proving drawer and gets on with the next flavour. To some extent he feels the frustration pent up inside slowly release, but he doesn’t stop busying himself in the kitchen, only stepping out when a customer enters.

His mind cannot have any room for thoughts he didn’t want to have, and Revali did well to keep himself occupied late into the night.

At some point in the evening he begins drawing out design plans for a sizable chocolate structure he has to craft and assemble the following day. It is elaborate, much like most things he created, but he is nearly finished with it when his stomach loudly demands he pay attention to it.

The paper bag with the zucchini bread sat untouched on his counter. He has more or less forgotten about it, but now it appeared to him like a life preserver in a vast ocean of hunger.

Revali swears if he had any other options for food, he wouldn’t even consider the zucchini bread as sustenance, but the other stores have closed for the night long ago, and the day’s bake for walk-in customers have sold so well that it left him without leftovers.

He stacks the design plans together and stows them away in a drawer. His belly growls again, and this time he could practically feel the gastric acid eating away at his stomach lining. He decides that maybe he will try just one bite of Link’s bread, only to stave off the hunger until he reaches home to make himself dinner.

Nudging the slice of bread out of its paper bag, Revali experimentally nibbles the corner off. His nibble proved to be too small a bite for him to properly taste anything, though the scent of the cheddar is strong, and it sticks to his palate in a not wholly unpleasant way.

_ It’s not too bad _ , he thinks, as he chewed slowly on his second bite, willing himself not to scarf the entire thing down like a starved animal.

He still maintains that the onion-like taste of the chives contradicted the bitter aroma of the cheese, but he must admit, the chopped zucchini weren’t too horrid an addition to have in the bread. It gives a slight crunch in every bite he took, and the pieces didn’t retain so much moisture as to ruin the bread surrounding them.

It truly isn’t as bad as he expected it to be, though part of him wondered whether that was the hunger speaking or his critic taste buds. Revali decides it doesn’t matter, since nobody would know he had eaten the entire slice, anyway.

The night is no longer young by the time he leaves his confectionery, only just aware of a different type of hunger stirring within him.


	3. takeaways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali realizes he can't avoid Link forever, ft lunch with Mipha

Revali doesn’t stop by Link’s bakery the following day. It’s not that he’s avoiding him, he was simply short of time and could not afford to make any pit stops that morning.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he deliberately leaves his studio apartment ten minutes later than he usually does, so that he would make it to his confectionery just in time for opening.

Around lunchtime as he is tidying up from the morning’s baking, the windchime by the door rings softer than it normally does, and in walks Mipha with a gentle smile and takeaway food in her hands.

“I was hoping you haven’t had lunch yet,” she said, holding up the takeaway containers. “Though in hindsight, I should have asked in advance if you had any plans for lunch.”

“Fortunately for you, the answers to both your questions are no,” Revali replies, patting his hands clean and removing his apron. Mipha is always a welcomed sight, especially if she brought food.

Her little frown quickly morphs into a smile of relief.

Revali has no clue why she thought he might have plans for lunch. He rarely stepped out of his bakery for the sole purpose of sharing a meal with another person. In fact, he rarely travelled beyond three points in the neighbourhood - his home, his bakery, and the local grocery store. Perhaps one day his tracks may sink deep enough into the pavement for a triangle to appear on the map.

Besides, this is hardly the first time she came over to have lunch with him unscheduled - part and parcel of her shop being located opposite his, he supposes.

Mipha set out the food on one of the waiting tables and Revali joined her shortly.

Conversation is slow at first. Revali could not seem to focus or contribute much to the topics she talked about, which is unlike him. Usually he was the one who spoke more than he ate, yet he couldn’t help but feel distracted today, merely nodding and humming in response to most everything Mipha says. When they’re finished with lunch she offers to tidy up, and as she brings their takeaway containers to the trash, something in the bin catches her eye.

“I wasn’t aware you visited other bakeries other than your own,” Mipha pipes up.

It takes Revali a second to register what she means, and his eyes widen when he does.  _ The paper bag from yesterday _ .

How Mipha came to the conclusion that he has been visiting other bakeries escapes him. Sure, she has been around long enough to know he prefers boxes over paper bags for packaging his goods, so the paper bag could not possibly be his own, but that did not mean he went to another  _ bakery _ , specifically. There are plenty of other places that used paper bags. For all she knew, that isn’t even discarded by Revali himself. It could have been a client!

But Mipha has always been insightful, and one look at her told Revali it was no use denying her deduction.

He sighs.

“I do not make a habit of it. It is merely because there is a new bakery located in such close proximity to mine, I thought it would be wise to scout out their… operation.”

“Well, I am glad that you’ve met Link and Zelda. I would have introduced you in any case, but with Valentine’s day approaching so soon I’m afraid my schedule is a bit packed - I’m sure it’s the same for you,” Mipha said, settling back into the seat opposite him.

She is right, Valentine’s day is always busy season for the both of them, and since their goods went hand in hand, it was convenient for their clients to stop by both the florist and the confectionery in one go, rather than make the trip to a different location for flowers or chocolates. Besides, Mipha’s bouquets are always top shelf and so are his confectioneries - there is no reason to opt for lower quality goods when romancing a loved one.

And he is about to agree with Mipha too, about how hectic it was soon to be, when he realizes she called them by their names despite Revali never bringing it up. He narrows his eyes.

“Hold on, introduce us? I wasn’t aware you were so well acquainted with them.”

Mipha’s smile transforms into a toothy grin, clearly delighted Revali had caught on.

“Oh yes, Link is a childhood friend of mine. So is Zelda, now that I think about it, but only because I met her when we were young. I only ever got to see her when our fathers met up though, so we weren’t all that close back then.”

“I see.”

Truthfully, Revali is not sure how to feel about Mipha having known Link for such a long time. Well before he himself has met Mipha, even, though admittedly he has only known Mipha a couple years, and only because she set up shop across the street from him. A few years of friendship is considered long to Revali, but evidently not to Mipha. Something worries in the back of his mind and he can’t quite place what or why. He’s certainly not concerned that Link might take up all of Mipha’s time and attention - she can do whatever she pleased with whomever she liked, but something about the length and possible… intimacy of their relationship leaves him ill at ease.

“It must be awfully silent when you and Link spent time together then, considering how soft spoken you are and the fact that he never speaks.”

Mipha laughed quietly, further proving his point. “You’d be surprised at my volume when I hear a good joke, and Link excels in making them.”

In a split moment, Revali’s mind flashes every instance he jested in Mipha’s presence, and he couldn’t seem to recall once where she had laughed out loud. He frowns.

“Is he that humorous? He doesn’t seem the type.”

“Oh, I assure you, Revali, he can be if he wants to. If you get the chance, ask him to tell you the one about milk, it cracks me up just thinking about it.” She certainly looked as though she is barely containing her giggles.

Revali gives her a flat smile. “I’m afraid if the joke involved sign language I would be missing out.” It is unlike him to admit he is incompetent at something, but better for Mipha to discover from him than from Link.

Mipha quickly composes herself. “Oh, Revali, there’s always the option to learn. I’d be more than happy to guide you, though we’ll have to work out a schedule between us.”

His eyes widen.

No, he did  _ not  _ need Mipha’s help in learning sign language, not when there is a risk of her sharing this with Link, and Revali certainly did not want Link getting any ideas about him learning a new language just to communicate him - which he isn’t.

“I - no, it’s fine, I’m sure I can learn on my own, no need to trouble yourself,” he swallows nervously.

“I am sure you can, Revali, you are a quick learner, but having someone to practice with would build confidence when using the language. And really, it would be no trouble at all. If anything, I think Link would be elated to learn that his student has become a teacher. Maybe he’d like to join in on the tutoring too.”

“ _ No _ ,” he shoots out before he could stop himself, and even with Mipha’s self control, she looks briefly taken aback. “I - I don’t think troubling Link would be a grand idea.”

“Oh, well -”

“In fact,” he cuts her off, “I think it would be best to involve as little people as possible. Perhaps I shall pick up a few books on the topic and we can meet up every so often for practice, as you suggested.”

_ Good job, Revali, _ he thinks to himself, _ if you provide a solution then she won’t push it further. _

Mipha tilts her head to one side, amusement glinting in her eyes, and Revali stares into them as if willing her to simply accept and move on. After what felt like an eternity, she nods and Revali feels a breath of relief escape him.

It is better this way. Link did not need to witness the process of him learning a new language. Though Revali is indeed a quick learner, languages have always posed a barrier that hindered him from advancing as swift as he did with other skills. Besides, just because Revali is learning sign language, a language in which Link uses primarily to communicate, it does not mean he is privy to Revali’s progress. It’s not like he is learning it solely for Link. It is about time he picked up a new hobby anyway.

Eventually they decide on weekly tutoring lessons, or as Revali prefers to call them - practice sessions.

Hopefully the next time Link decides to sign an entire essay to someone else, Revali would be able to understand more than the gist of it.


	4. cake topper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali learns a language, and then some

Revali hasn’t had the time to get his hands on books on sign language yet. With Valentine’s day just around the corner, for every order he finishes three more take its place. So when he meets up with Mipha on their day off to practice, it is all he can do to not feel embarrassed when he has to admit there has not been any progress since they last spoke.

Mipha is understanding, of course. They settle down, and she refreshes Revali on the few terms he already has knowledge of - which was not a lot, so they begin learning new phrases not long after their session started. Thankfully, she has brought a few books along with her and was willing to lend them to him.

“I am in your debt, Mipha,” he says when they begin to wrap up for the day. “You have an aptitude for teaching. Perhaps one day if you tire of arranging flowers you might consider joining the education sector.”

She chuckles.

“You are too kind, Revali. Though I’m afraid my vocabulary is rather limited when it comes to baking, which I assume you will be interested in learning at some point.” Revali waits expectantly for Mipha to suggest bringing Link into their lessons again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she continues, “However, I'm certain the library has resources in that regard. Maybe there’s a sailor’s manual that teaches how to swear in sign language as well, hidden somewhere in the shelves.”

Revali lets out a bark of laughter.

“You're not encouraging me to use crude words now, are you? Whoever you are, you’re doing a poor job at pretending to be the real Mipha.”

She giggled, looking a bit abashed now.

“I only presumed - well, if you prefer to keep your vocabulary clean, I am all for it.”

“Unfortunately, that's one of few things I - the great Revali - am unable to do,” he grinned.

He does agree that the library was a good place for more resources though, and since their practice session ended around midday, he had plenty of time to drop by the library before heading home.

It’s a ways off from his neighbourhood, but he finds the building easily enough, its external construction ancient in design, though he knows the interior to be fairly modern.

Upon entry, a librarian offers to help him locate any titles he might have in mind, but Revali is instantly uncomfortable with verbalizing his request and merely asks to be directed to the section on sign language, he can take it from there, thank you very much.

He has been to other libraries, and this one in particular was definitely considered grand. Situated squat in the middle of Hyrule City, it was a place where resource was abundant and there was small chance they did not have whatever information one came for.

He passes the countless rows of shelves; books on history, books on nature, and when he reaches the section on self-help books, there is an open area with tables and chairs set up, and at one of the tables sat two familiar blond heads.

Link was idly twirling a pencil, eyes half lidded as he flipped through the pages of a book. Across from him was Zelda, considerably more focused on whatever research she appeared to be working on, with multitudes of books and loose sheets spread out before her. She let out a frustrated groan, leaning back in her chair.

“This title isn’t as helpful as I thought it might be. I’m going to check again to see if I’ve missed any titles the first time around.” As she stands and collects a few books into her arms, her gaze pauses when she notices Revali rooted beside a table.

Too late to make your escape now, bird brain.

“Revali! What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

He watches as Link glance up in his direction, watches as his eyes light up and he beams, as if Revali was the most interesting thing to have happened to him that day. Link gives him a little wave, and the corners of his lips subconsciously tugs into a smile.

“Would you like to join us at our table?” asks Zelda, her tone more enthusiastic than the last time they spoke. “I’m certain we can make space. Link is hardly reading so there’s plenty of space on his side. You can sit with him if you like.”

“I -” For a brief moment as his eyes darted back and forth between Link and Zelda, Revali considers accepting. He could simply choose a book on any topic other than sign language and spend some time in Link’s presence, just to get to know him more and perhaps get a clue on the reasoning behind his odd bakes. It was not his plan to linger at the library, his plan was to locate a suitable book and head home immediately after, but he did take the entire day off. What was there to lose? “Let me think about it. I have yet to find the book I came for.”

“Of course. I have to look for a more suitable one as well. Do come join us when you’re ready.”

With that, she disappears between the racks, and Revali is left alone with Link, who seems to be scribbling something in his notebook. When he’s finished he holds it up to Revali, and in messy handwriting it read: “Do you need help finding your book?”

“No,” he quickly refuses, “I’m more than capable of finding it myself.”

“I’m really good at locating books though, Zelda can testify to that,” Link writes back.

“I’ll be fine. Maybe you should stay here and practise your handwriting instead - it’s barely legible.” Revali wasn’t exactly exaggerating, the boy’s handwriting resembled chicken scratches more than words, but when Link pouts at him, he swallows his upcoming jab and sighs. “Just stay put and watch over your friend’s things. I’ll be back.”

He retreats in between the shelves.

Why did he say he would be back? He told Zelda he would consider joining, now he _has_ to.

What was the purpose of staying, anyway? This is a library - it wasn’t as though they could converse without disrupting the quiet atmosphere. How was Revali supposed to get to know Link better in a _library_? By staring at him intensely until all his mysteries unravel?

What was he thinking?

He lingers in the section that doesn’t even contain books on sign language, and he only realizes he has been away for some time when he takes a book off the shelf and Link’s face appears on the opposite side, startling him.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Revali whispers as loud as he dares, with as much annoyance as he can muster.

Link grins at his reaction, and promptly scribbles in his notebook before holding it up against the narrow slot between the library books.

“I can’t see what you wrote,” Revali says flatly.

To his amusement, Link tilts the notebook sideways in an attempt to align the words vertically so that it shows through the slot.

“I still can’t - Link, just walk over to my side.”

He watches as Link leans in closer, and with his face nearly pressed against the books, he sticks his tongue out cheekily.

Revali scoffs, rolling his eyes. This is ridiculous. He’s about to tell Link to quit bothering him when he pulls his face away, and the notebook slips through the slot towards him. Revali makes a point to sigh loudly.

Fine, he’ll indulge him just this once.

The notebook easily opens to its most recently used page. “You’re taking so long! Just tell me the name of the book! I can help!”

He can’t, obviously. He doesn’t even know the name himself.

They’re not even in the correct section.

And Link certainly does not need to know he’s learning sign language.

“It’s fine, the book is probably somewhere here. I can manage,” Revali slides the notebook over.

“You’re being so secretive,” it slides back soon enough.

“I’m not.”

The notebook slides back again, and when Revali goes to flip it open, the page that stares back at him isn’t the one with Link’s scrawls. Instead, he sees a page filled with doodles of hearts and flowers and sparkles, and his own name in various font styles - _Revali Revali Revali_ \- and in the middle of it all, an abandoned sketch of his portrait. Barely noticeable in the corner of the page is the word _focus!_ all in capital letters, clearly written by someone attempting to write inversely.

His eyes widen marginally at the page, blood thundering in his ears. He is definitely not supposed to see that. Snapping the notebook shut and sliding it back, he schools his features into a more neutral appearance.

“Aha! There it is,” he pulls out the closest library book at eye level, “There’s the book I was searching for!”

The way his voice instinctively raises a pitch makes him want to bury his head in the ground. He prays Link does not take notice as he tailed behind Revali, who was now hurriedly making his way back to the opening with the tables.

When they return, their table is entirely cleared out except for the single book Link had been reading. Zelda stood by the table, carrying her backpack and the beginnings of a scowl.

“Oh, there you guys are. I’m afraid I will not be staying any longer. I just received a call from my father regarding the -” her gaze flicks toward Link, who is frowning now, “- family business.”

Revali isn’t so dense to be oblivious to the tension in the air. Link raises his hands to sign in response, and Revali notes that his movements are jerkier than before.

“I’ll just be away for a few days, three or four, perhaps,” she smiles at him ruefully. Then, turning to Revali, “I’m sorry we missed our opportunity to get to know each other better, Revali. Feel free to stay here with Link though, and forgive him if he does anything, well, immature,” she says not unkindly, in the same tone Mipha sometimes used when talking about her brother.

Link’s jaw drops open comically. He reaches out to slap Zelda’s arm, and she lets him.

“I know! Let’s go out for dinner when I return, the three of us and Mipha, if she’s not otherwise engaged, then we could have a proper get-to-know-each-other. I know just the place.”

The way she says it leaves no room for Revali to reject, but no matter, when the time comes all he has to do is claim unavailability. It is not until later he would recall Zelda’s suggestion and feel an incessant need to not be left out. Perhaps he would take up the offer after all.

After Zelda takes her leave, their two-person library session lasts another couple of hours, in which Revali spends half his time reading about goldfinches from the book he pulled out at random, and the other half pondering about the doodles he had seen in Link’s notebook, looking up every now and then to steal glances at him.

Revali doesn’t know what he’s being so secretive about. He doesn’t make a habit of gawking shamelessly at people he found… aesthetically up his alley, but it’s not like there is a law against harmlessly looking at another person in a totally not creepy way. A tiny part of his mind screams, it’s called _harassment_ , and he could get a restraining order issued against you if he wanted to. Another tiny part of his mind retorts, you’re overthinking - if anything, the hearts around a drawing of your face are much weirder than your blatant stares.

Truthfully, Revali finds it flattering. It was pleasing to learn that Link finds him attractive enough to have spent time thinking about him.

He is snapped out of his thoughts abruptly when across from him, Link stretches and his legs accidentally kicks Revali’s. Link looks at him apologetically and quickly mouths a _sorry_.

“I can understand some amount of sign language, you know.”

Link quirks an eyebrow at him in amusement, raising his hands to sign something in response.

It’s a short phrase, and Revali recognizes the word ‘you’ in it, but he isn’t able to grasp the rest. He narrows his eyes at Link, unwilling to admit he doesn’t understand him.

“If you say so,” he writes in his notebook.

Revali huffs.

The smirk on Link’s face is insufferable.

“It’s getting late. Should we call it a day?” Link writes.

Oh, he wants to leave. A wave of sadness briefly washes over him, but Revali pays it no mind. “I don’t see why not.”

“Do you want to get food together?”

Oh. More time with Link? More time _alone_ with Link. His mind doesn’t seem to absorb the information right away.

“I don’t usually have dinner this early,” Revali blinks dumbly.

Link pouts at him for a good few seconds before scribbling, “What time do you normally have dinner then?”

“Late. Usually after closing up the shop. Why?”

Link shrugs. “Do you live nearby?”

Revali raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions. Why do you want to know where I live?”

“To walk you home!” he scrawls hastily, and then, “Since you didn’t want to go for dinner this early.”

 _Oh_.

“I… suppose I could let you tag along.”

Just before they leave, he makes Link stay at their table while he quickly scouts out a book covering sign language terminologies used in cooking. Not quite what he is looking for, but close enough. Then he grabs the book about goldfinches and stacks it on top of the sign language book, making sure the cover page is completely obscured.

When he checks the books out, the staff at the counter gives Revali an odd little look, which quickly transforms into a sweet smile when Link greets them, and just as they finish up the procedure, the staff seems to have a look of realization upon their face. How strange.

Revali leads Link down a few streets in the direction of his studio apartment, just a ways off from his confectionery.

Their walk is quiet. He suppose it wouldn’t be easy for Link to write or type while walking, but he is content with the silence, and there is no urge to fill it on his end.

They reach the lobby entrance of his apartment just as Revali begins to feel his feet slowing, and when he stops in front of it with Link just a few paces away, he takes a moment to collect himself. Then, raising his right hand to his lips, he moves it forward and downward. _Thank you_. Hylia, it looks like he’s blowing Link a kiss, but he knows not to pucker his lips, Mipha taught him that much, and he had no doubt Link is able to differentiate between a thank you and a kiss.

Link grins.

 _You’re welcome_.

When he glances back one last time before stepping in the door, Link is glancing back too, a shy smile gracing his features, illuminated by the evening sun.


	5. one part sugar, one part water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali makes a move - so does Link

Revali opens up shop earlier the next day. It is Valentine’s day, and if the past years have been any indication, it will soon be a busy day. Whatever has been commissioned beforehand is ready to be collected, and the chocolates and petit fours prepared for walk-in customers are boxed. He is ready.

He chooses a box with twelve of his Valentine’s themed chocolates - six would appear scarce and twenty four a bit overbearing - and crosses the street over to Link’s bakery. His cash register wouldn’t miss a box.

The door chime rings when he enters. There is nobody behind the counter, and it takes Revali a moment to recall that oh, Zelda did mention being away for a few days. Maybe he should just leave the box on the counter then.

The kitchen door groans open and Link exits through it, hair in a bun and his hands floured. Revali tries to ignore the way Link beams when he realizes who is in his bakery. He briefly wonders if this is a bad idea after all, but he is already here, and he will not repeat his previous show of turning tail and dashing out of Link’s bakery.

Gingerly, he steps closer with the box of chocolates balanced in his hands.

“I brought this for you and Zelda to share, er, as thanks for the bread she gave me the other day. But I don’t - she’s not here, I suppose? In any case, the yogurt flavoured one can’t be kept as long as the others, so you might want to eat that first.” He is rambling, and it is tormenting to be so acutely aware of one’s own embarrassment.

When he finds the courage to meet Link’s gaze again, he is signing a  _ thank you _ at him.

Revali flushes. They should really consider installing an additional air conditioner. It has been hot and humid both times he visited. Thankfully, a customer soon enters and he has no trouble hastily excusing himself.

When he returns to his confectionery, he nearly misses the bouquet of flowers sitting by the cash register, its stark white blending in with the marble surface of the countertop. 

The white petals overlap each other neatly around a dark circle, navy bordering black. The arrangement of the flowers vaguely resembles a trident when viewed from the front, which is how Revali comes to the conclusion that the bouquet must have something to do with Mipha. Thus are the consequences of having the florist set up shop directly across from you - whenever Revali glances out the windows, an array of potted plants return his glance, sometimes among them the bouquets Mipha prepares for her customers - it would be difficult not to notice the distinct flair of the trident formation.

However carefully he searches the bouquet for a note or a card though, even parting the individual flowers to check if one has fallen between the stems, he finds none. Which is why when lunch time rolls around, Revali easily makes the decision to pick up some food and head over to Mipha’s to confront her.

Mipha is sending a customer on their way when Revali approaches. At first she looks surprised to find him at her doorstep, but her composed facade quickly takes over as she steps out to greet him.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Revali internally debates whether to cut to the chase and simply ask what he came to, but he  _ did  _ bring lunch. “I have decided to return the kindness of all the lunches you’ve brought me,” he lifts the paper bag containing the takeaway.

Mipha looks taken aback. Is it so shocking that he is nice sometimes?

“I am so sorry, Revali, I’m afraid I will be meeting up with someone for lunch. It  _ is  _ Valentine’s, you see, and -”

She has a date, he realizes.

“Oh? And who might this lucky person be?”

Mipha’s eyes widen marginally, and there is a flash of alarm in them before she answers, “No, no, I was merely talking about Sidon. His classes end early today so he will be coming over to join me for lunch.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. Revali isn’t daft, and Mipha isn’t a good liar, but he doesn’t comment on it. She is entitled to her privacy, and Revali will not push it. Besides, he has an idea who her lunch buddy might be.

“I am terribly sorry you bought two portions worth of food though,” she gestures guiltily at the takeaway.

“Don’t worry about it.” Maybe he will make the extra portion his dinner.

“Perhaps you would like to share it with Link? He doesn’t have any plans for lunch, as far as I know.”

It feels like a setup - the way things are falling into place with Mipha’s suggestions, but there is no way she could have known Revali would drop by for lunch, so he decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“I will… take that into consideration. Before that, I do have a question for you,” Revali raises his chin and stares down at Mipha, who is already shorter than him as it is. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about white flowers with dark blue centers, would you? Specifically, a bouquet of such flowers in my confectionery?”

“Some daisies fit that description, but white anemones are more common,” she tilts her head to one side, smiling. “What is this about a bouquet in your confectionery?”

“You tell me,” he replies drily. “I was hoping you could provide me with more insight, seeing as it was likely assembled and delivered by you.”

“Did I do such a thing?”

“I should hope it did not simply materialize from thin air in the five minutes I was away.”

Mipha hums in response, leaning against the door frame, watching him.

Huffing, he continues, “The bouquet didn’t come with a name, or maybe it did but it is lost now.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it came from a grateful client, Revali. After all, your skill is much appreciated on special occasions like today. Or - ooh - perhaps you have a secret admirer who wants to remain anonymous. What a romantic idea!” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

Revali scoffs, rolling his eyes. Now she’s just toying with him.

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

When he does not cross the street back to his confectionery after leaving Mipha’s store, and he glances back just as he is pushing open the doors to Link’s bakery, Mipha gives him two thumbs up from afar, and he just  _ knows _ she is playing some part in all this. At the very least, the bouquet was a hundred percent put together by her.

Internally, he wonders what he is doing, returning to Link’s bakery for the second time that day. The boy in question is again not at the counter when he enters, so he calls his name and waits, thinking whether it is not too late to back out.

A while later, Link emerges from a door next to the kitchen, hands clean and apron nowhere to be seen. He looks tired, but the smile on his face is unwavering as he greets Revali hello.

“I dropped by Mipha’s place just now, but apparently she is meeting up with her brother for lunch,” Revali begins. “I will be frank, I suspect she is not entirely truthful about, well, many things in the conversation we had, but I do not believe her brother is actually in the area. At any rate, she sent me over here so that the extra food I bought wouldn’t go to waste.”

Link makes his way behind the counter where he retrieves a notebook - a different one from before, Revali notes.

“That’s what she told me too,” he writes, doodling a frowning face at the end before showing Revali. Then, “But since you’re here, let’s eat!”, with a smiley face.

Revali cannot help but huff out a laugh.

“As you wish. Do you have a back room here?”

“I was thinking we could go to the park. Have a picnic. The weather is nice today.”

“Oh.” A picnic does sound very appealing. He hardly remembers the last time he had one. Be that as it may, the lunch breaks he allows himself everyday are not that long, and he has already spent part of it picking up food and confronting Mipha. Perhaps the picnic plan can be shelved away for another day.

Link makes a show of scrunching his eyebrows together and pouting when Revali explains why he prefers not making the trip to the park.

Nevertheless, he leads them both through the door he emerged from, which turns out to be a moderately sized room with cupboards and open shelves. Judging by the packages of baking ingredients and spare appliances lying around, this is more of a storage room than a staff lunch room. Even so, there is sufficient space in the middle for a table and some chairs to be arranged comfortably.

“It’s a bit messy, sorry,” Link quickly scribbles after they settle down.

Revali shrugs.

“As long as the kitchen is tidy.”

When the other boy doesn’t meet his gaze, instead choosing to busy himself with setting out the takeaway, Revali narrows his eyes at him. Hylia, he hopes Link’s kitchen is only untidy and not unclean.

They set out the food between them, with most dishes having a little Valentine’s day flair in accordance with the occasion. Among them is a pinkish soup with chunks of fruit and a thin slice of radish shaped into a heart garnishing it. Revali is pleased to find it is served cold.

Link seems to be pleased as well, eyes lighting up at the sight of it.

“My mother used to make this for dessert,” he scribbles on his notebook. Giving the soup a taste, he promptly makes a face that Revali interprets as it being subpar. He still takes a few more sips though. Then he tells Revali about how his mother’s recipe never specified the amount of radish to put in the soup, and since she passed he has not tasted any recreation of the soup that is as delicious as hers. His father, after resigning from the national guard to care for him and his sister, has made many attempts at reproducing their mother’s recipes, but his cooking skills are average at best, so the secret to the soup’s recipe sort of died with his mother.

“And now?” Revali asks, “How are your father and sister now?”

Link tells him more. He tells him about his father’s plans to retire from his current job as a jiu-jitsu coach, tells him about the classes his sister is taking in college, tells him about a pet horse he kept before moving to the city, and when his hands begin to tire from the exertion of writing, he asks Revali about  _ his _ family.

Revali hesitates. He has more or less finished his meal, but Link is only halfway through.

The silence stretches between them. He has to say something to fill it, and Link has already diverted the conversation to his family. He does not want to talk about his family though. Under normal circumstances he would feel annoyed when people probed him to share about topics he did wish to share, but now all he feels is uncertainty.

“Are you alright?” Link writes, frowning around a mouthful of food. “You don’t have to talk about your family if you don’t want to.”

“Fine, fine. I was merely reminiscing the past,” he lies.

Deep breath in, don’t stop once you’ve started.

He tells Link about Kaneli, the elderly man who adopted him when he was seven? Eight? Around that age. He doesn’t tell him why he had to be adopted in the first place. He tells Link about how kind and empathetic Kaneli was, always patient with Revali even when his emotions get the best of him. He doesn’t tell him about the time he slammed the door in Kaneli’s face, when all his bottled up bitterness and resentment finally showed through the cracks. He tells Link how Kaneli has always reminded him of an owl, solemn in his demeanor, his wisdom never offered a moment too late. He doesn’t tell him how Kaneli also reminds him of his father, of the same paternal role they both played in Revali’s life, but of course -

No, of course he doesn’t tell Link the whole story. How could he consciously make the decision to scare Link away? His past is no tragic villain backstory by any means, but it has made enough negative impact on his development that he would prefer not disclosing it to anybody he would like to keep in his life.

He does, however, tell Link about Kaneli’s passing, to which Link offers his condolences, but he assures him he has long since grieved the death of his caretaker and it is no longer a sore subject to broach.

Link seems content with the information Revali shares with him, and if he isn’t he has enough grace to not comment on it. Revali is grateful for that much.

That evening as Revali is occupied with a client, he glances out the windows just in time to see Link closing up his bakery. In the brief moment where Link turns around to wave goodbye at him, he thinks he spies recognition in Link’s eyes when his gaze lingers at the sight of the bouquet of flowers Revali has set up temporarily on one of the tables.

Curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a positive note, anemone symbolizes anticipation.


	6. in increments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali spends some late nights with Link

Revali is closing up shop late as per usual. The rest of the street has retired for the night long ago, leaving his confectionery the only one with the lights still on.

Tonight he is finishing preparation of a dough that requires the night to prove when a figure lingers at the front door, peeking in but not making any moves to enter. Though the sign on his door is kept as open, he rarely has clients come in this late. That is fine by him. He is mostly in his confectionery only to use his kitchen anyway.

He steps closer to the door to get a better view of the figure, and perhaps if they saw there is indeed someone running the shop they would be more inclined to enter. He steps closer, and the figure flinches back in surprise at his approach.

Link?

He pulls the door open, admittedly a bit rougher than he has to.

“Link? What are you doing here? I thought you had closed up hours ago. Shouldn’t you be home?”

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but he doesn’t, and his jaw snaps shut again. Instead, he pulls out his phone and begins typing.

“I was restless, so I went on a walk. Sort of just ended up here.” Link scratches the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed.

Revali makes a noise midway between a hum and an _oh_ , and quickly clears his throat. “Well, since you’re here, feel free to come in. You’re no good to anyone catching a cold outside.”

He steps away from the door to make space, and the way the corners of Link’s eyes crease when he smiles shyly and ducks his head to enter sends a wave of warmth spreading in Revali’s chest. He wonders why it feels different from the times Mipha drops by. Granted, Mipha has never visited late at night after closing.

“It was really quiet at home. I thought having a few days of alone time would be nice, but I suppose not.”

“You don’t live alone?”

Link shakes his head. “Zelda and I share an apartment.”

“Oh.” Revali’s mind goes blank for a moment. “But the two of you are not…?” Hylia, he doesn’t know how to say it.

Thankfully, the other boy quickly catches on and erupts into laughter. He tells him no, they are not dating, and before Revali asks, they are not siblings or relatives either, despite what most people think when they notice their similarities. It’s just the blond hair and blue eyes.

When the flush around Revali’s neck fades, he asks how they ended up so close then, living together, opening a bakery together.

“I can only tell you so much though, some things are not mine to share.” Link has a far-off look in his eyes, and Revali briefly wonders if this is too personal a subject to be talked about in the middle of his confectionery. “When my father still worked in the national guard, Zelda’s father was his commanding officer. They knew each other as friends as well, I think, friends enough that they would allow their children to hang around each other everyday. I followed her around a lot, and she was fine with me tagging along on her adventures.”

At this point he pauses, as if reliving all his childhood memories in the span of seconds. His mouth pulls into a straight line. “One time, her father commented on how I was like a brave knight protecting his princess. He had even gotten me a toy sword as a joke, and… to say we were uncomfortable with that was an understatement. She was more offended than I was. Rightfully so, in my opinion, but she was cold to me for a good few years.”

Revali could understand why Zelda reacted the way she did. He could easily tell she was the independent and headstrong type, so to - no matter how hypothetically - be reduced to a princess in need of saving? A damsel in distress? He understands.

“My father had hinted that I shouldn’t take it to heart, because Zelda’s father was only saying it in jest. Fortunately for him, young me had enough sense to understand that it was best not to offend your father’s superior.”

He laughs drily when he finishes his story, and Revali lets out a scoff to match.

“That explains why she did not seem to enjoy the prospect of seeing her father. I suppose all parents have some sort of similarity after all.” Revali cannot help his steely glare at the air before him. He hardly knows Zelda at all, but Link recounting the way her father jested at the expense of his daughter’s feelings strikes a nerve in him.

Fortunately, Link picks up on Revali’s uneasiness around the topic and promptly brings the conversation back to safer waters. He describes the adventures he and Zelda had when they were kids, tells him how even though Mipha has known him longer, she always had a preference for Zelda’s company over his, complains about how expensive the rental here is, and how he is grateful he has Zelda to split it with him.

The conversation gradually digresses and Link is telling him about a new recipe he has come up with, but he is still waiting on the shipment of one of the ingredients.

“What ingredient is this? I might have it in stock.”

“White truffles.”

“Ah. I do not mind sharing some with you if you agree to let me have a taste test. What is this recipe you have been meaning to try?”

“A mushroom cake.”

Revali feels the gears in his head screech to a halt. “Pardon me, a _what_?”

“A mushroom cake,” Link repeats, as if it was the world’s most common cake flavour.

“Tell me you mean a cake in the shape of a mushroom, and not mushroom incorporated into cake batter,” he deadpans. When Link does not respond, Revali groans. “I have regrets. You are not baking such an abomination in my kitchen.”

“It will taste good, I promise!”

“No. You can have the truffles but bring them to your bakery.”

“I don’t have the keys with me,” he pouts, and oh - Revali has such a soft spot for those bright blue eyes.

Revali grumbles under his breath. Hylia, he really did not want the scent of mushrooms baking in cake batter to linger in his ovens. It was sure to taint his future bakes. But now he is intrigued. He _is_ interested in how Link is able to make his odd recipes work, recalling the zucchini bread incident. This is an opportunity to witness any tricks Link might have up his sleeve.

He pretends to contemplate, even makes a show of squinting at Link, and finally huffing dramatically as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Fine, I will allow it just this once. Do you understand, Link? This is the first and last time you will bake such an abomination in my vicinity.”

“My kitchen is not that far away, Revali. I bake ‘abominations’ in your vicinity everyday.”

His jaw drops open.

“The audacity -” He moves to slap Link on the arm, but the other boy is already out of his chair and dashing towards the kitchen. “Say that one more time and I’ll kick you out.”

As it turns out, their late night baking session mostly comprises of Revali showing Link where all the appliances are and bringing out any general ingredients he might need, then watching as he expertly slice the truffles and combine the ingredients.

Link is hardly the first person to have step foot inside his kitchen other than himself. He allows Mipha entry, but it is a different kind of pleasant to have someone not gingerly step around the various appliances for fear of breaking them. It is a nice feeling, to put it simply, to be able to talk to another person about baking and receive equal enthusiasm in return instead of polite nods and agreements.

They only prepare enough batter for the smallest tin size - this is a trial run for taste adjustment after all.

“How did you even come up with this recipe?” asks Revali while they wait for the cake to bake.

This is how he learns Link has more tales to recount than he will ever have. This time the story is about a pair of merchant sisters who gave the impression they were very well travelled. They had on them a variety of truffles from places across the world, and insisted that they have different taste undertones attributed to the different soils and conditions they grew in. Link had bought a few and true to their word, the truffles did taste different from one another. He was inspired from that encounter - less so by the truffles and more so by the sisters’ travels, and this mushroom cake recipe is a tribute to them in the hopes that one day he might see the world for himself.

He shares that maybe in a few years he might leave Hyrule City, and it hits Revali like a slap across the face - the reason why Link experiments with his baking. Link’s baking is wild, it is the freedom to choose, it is self indulgence, it is meant to feel like home in a hundred different places and cultures. Compared to his own baking - meticulous and precise, always playing on the safer side to ensure there is no room for imperfections - Revali begins to appreciate the contrast in their baking styles.

When the timer goes off and the kitchen is filled with the overwhelming aroma of truffles, they bring the cake out and split it, each taking a half.

Revali pokes at his portion warily, hoping it tastes better than it appears. Link is watching him take a bite, almost nervously so, and Revali meets his gaze.

The cake has thankfully retained just the right amount of moisture, so it has not become as soggy as he thought it might. The slices of truffles are thin enough to not throw the overall texture of the cake off balance. The flavour of the truffles are a tad strong for his liking, but he has never liked mushrooms all that much anyway, so he swallows his personal preference along with a mouthful of cake.

“Acceptable.”

Link snorts.

“High praise, coming from the great Master Baker Revali.”

Revali huffs, deciding he will let it go just this once.

That night, his dreams feature a blond haired figure in a forest, kneeling as they foraged for mushrooms. His viewpoint changes to that of a bird’s, now looking down at the canopy of trees below him. The figure raises their head and smiles when they catch sight of him, and though he cannot make out the face, he recognizes the smile.

* * *

The following evening finds Revali sitting facing the front door of his confectionery. For the past hour, he has been absentmindedly flipping through the sign language book he had checked out from the library, all the while waiting for his ice cream to chill sufficiently before he can layer it onto the sponge. He does not necessarily have to do the layering that evening itself, but it helps him sleep better at night knowing he has less work to rush through the next morning.

His position allows him to spot Link almost immediately when the boy stops at his door, and even with only the dim glow of the streetlights for illumination, he is able to make out a metal food carrier clutched in his hand. Huh, he has not seen one of those since he cleared out Kaneli’s belongings in the weeks after he passed.

Revali pulls the door open. The ringing of the windchime is the loudest sound he has heard in the past couple of hours.

“I had hoped you would still be here.”

“How come? Here to use my ovens again? I’ll have you know that overpowering scent of mushrooms is permanently infused in the kitchen walls now, thanks to you.”

Maybe he should have injected more menace into his tone, because Link does not even bat an eye at him, simply inviting himself into his confectionery, eyes rolling but with one corner of his lips tugged upwards.

Revali tsks.

It is only when Link starts making his way to the table he has been seated at that he realizes the book he had been going through is still open. He inhales sharply. Time seems to slow as he darts forward in an attempt to snatch it, but Link is two steps ahead and reaches the table first.

Link tilts his head and stares at the open pages. They are filled with schematic diagrams of pairs of hands in various gestures - it is much too obvious what the book is about, even without looking at the cover page.

“ _You’re learning sign?_ ”

It takes Revali a moment to read the motions. Thankfully, Link has signed it slow enough that he has no trouble understanding the question.

He considers denying, but the way Link spun around with such fervour, the way his eyes brighten with hope, the way he signs the question instead of typing or writing - Revali merely averts his gaze and mutters a yes.

“I suppose I should be grateful Mipha has not let our little secret slip.”

“ _She would not tell me anything you do not want her to._ ”

Again, it takes Revali some time to piece together the gestures, but when he does he smiles wryly. Conversation would be slow tonight, but he finds he does not mind at all.

“While we’re on this topic, she did mention you would be more… suitable a teacher, should I wish to learn more about sign.”

Link beams. His eyes light up excitedly and if Revali knows it is enthusiasm he sees, it is because they have the same shine when he talks about his dreams to travel.

He leads Revali to the display case - he truly is treating this place as his own now, isn’t he - and points at one of the labels that Revali has set up for the chocolates he plans on making tomorrow. Then he signs what Revali presumes is the sign for chocolates, faster and in smoother motions the first time, then slower the second. Revali imitates the movement several times, looking up to find Link nodding his approval before they move on to the next label.

For all the compliments he showered Mipha during their practice session, Revali much prefers being taught by Link for the simple fact that validation coming from him felt more gratifying.

They go through the labels in the display case with Link sharing creative tips on how to remember the signs for some of them. Eventually they make it into the kitchen and he is teaching him baking ingredients.

Notably, he points at a carton of milk in the refrigerator and makes the sign for milk. Revali thinks he knows, at first, but then Link moves hand in front of his eyes while signing, and he is lost.

“Milk?”

Link nods, repeating the motion, again moving it in front of his eyes.

“I don’t understand. I know this is milk,” he makes the sign for milk, “But why are you moving your hand past your eyes -”

It clicks. Pasteurized milk.

Hylia, was this the milk pun Mipha had suggested he ask Link to share? It’s awful, and he makes a point to tell Link just how unfunny he finds it. The way Link cackles at his reaction is ten times more amusing than the joke itself, and Revali ends up chuckling quietly to himself.

When they tire of standing around and pointing at objects - and Revali’s mind is saturated with new information, though he would insist he is more than capable of learning a few more - they make it back to the table where they had left the book.

“ _I didn’t know if you had dinner yet, but I made you something._ ”

Link fidgets with the lock securing the food carrier he had brought with him, which opens to reveal a familiar pinkish soup. Despite Link’s insistence that the soup is for him, and he has already had some before he came over, Revali retrieves two bowls from the kitchen for them to share the soup.

“If you insist on bringing me food, you might as well have some yourself.” Then, in a tone he hopes comes off as jokingly, “Unless this is one of your flavour experiments and you’ve finally created something inedible.”

Link sniggers, and Revali feels a breath of relief escape him.

“ _It’s not as good as my mother’s._ ”

And maybe it isn’t, Revali would never know. But he has not realized just how bland the takeaway soup had been until he tasted Link’s cooking. Perhaps it is the knowledge that nobody has cooked for him since Kaneli passed, that knowledge lingering in the back of his mind, and he wonders if he only thinks this soup tastes heavenly for the sheer fact that it was created with intent - for him.

The library book still sits on the table next to the food carrier. Between eating his soup and thinking about the new terminologies he has learned, he decides to sate his curiosity, hoping his query does not come across as insulting.

“Why don’t you speak anyway? _Can_ you speak?”

Link shrugs.

“ _Do you remember what I told you yesterday?_ ”

“You told me many things yesterday.” _Goddesses above, Revali, just keep your mouth shut for once._ He tries to ignore the way the other boy chews on his lip to smother a grin.

Link continues as if Revali has not said anything.

“How my father wasn’t too keen on the idea of me slipping up and telling Zelda’s father to mind his own business?”

Revali nods.

“I guess it was just easier. If I don’t speak, there is less of a chance I could slip up. I don’t think Zelda’s father ever bothered to learn sign, so that works in my favour.” A pause. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you making an effort to learn. It means a lot.”

Link smiles softly at him, and it is all Revali can do to drink it in. He does not try to deny the implication that he learned sign language for him. He simply drinks in the sight of him - glazed eyes and the gentle curl of his lips, wishing he had met him earlier, wishing he had been involved in this incident, because he would very much like to give Zelda’s father a piece of his mind.

He opens his mouth to respond, but for the first time in his life, he is at a loss for words.

* * *

What does it say when he expects Link to stop by on his walk again?

Revali is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest to fend off the night chill. He has only been waiting a while, twenty minutes or so, and the ache in his ankles is telling him to head in and wait in a comfortable chair. But the past two evenings had found Link at his doorstep around this hour, so he is determined to wait for him.

Another five minutes pass before he spots Link some distance away, a silhouette that is steadily becoming a familiar thing to him. He approaches, and Revali steps out onto the street to greet him.

“I had a feeling you would show up eventually, but making me wait so long is a bit indulgent.”

Link chuckles, soft enough that it does not break the tranquility of the night, though now Revali wonders if anything Link does would ever seem out of place to him.

“Join me on my walk?” he says, and oh - Revali’s throat dries up at the sound of it.

“Okay.”

He dares not say a word for fear of spoiling the moment, and he is so sure that he will if he so much as asks where they are going. At least Link seems content with the silence.

He leads them to the park - presumably the same one he wanted to have an impromptu picnic at, and is quick to make a beeline for the children’s playground. They settle onto a pair of swings, Link kicking his feet and actually swinging while Revali simply rocks back and forth next to him, though something in him - perhaps a past life - yearns to feel the night air rush through his hair as well.

When Link slows down, he teaches him the sign for swing. Revali asks him how to sign wind, and he teaches him that too. Before they know it, Revali is pointing out objects in the park for Link to teach him, and if his mind is barely able to memorize all these new terms, it would serve as good excuse for Link to teach him again in the future.

Twisting the chains that keep the swing suspended, he turns to face Link.

“How do you sign your name?”

He starts with the thumbs and index fingers of both hands apart, then moving to interlock with each other. Revali gives it a few tries. When he looks back at Link, he is biting on his lower lip in attempt to control his grin.

“What?” he nearly squawks, worried he has been signing it incorrectly.

“Nothing,” Link shakes his head. “You did good.”

Revali blinks. Once, twice, then he shifts in his swing.

“Of course I did.”

Link smiles at him with such fondness it causes his heart to skip a beat. People usually did not appreciate his… egotistical side.

Staring at the stars above, he wonders if there is a universe where he is less broken, less conceited, more placid, more likable, and he wonders how different his life would be. He wonders if this particular moment would still exist.

He stares at the stars, and Link is staring at him.

“Revali?” Link’s voice cracks through the night.

“Yes?”

“This is your name.”

He raises his right hand to his lips and signs the letter R - index and middle fingers intertwined, and moves it in an arc over his head. He repeats the motion another time, and Revali mirrors him. He recognizes the letter R, but -

“What does the arc mean?”

“The sky.” Link is smiling so softly at him, he doesn’t remember ever being looked at like this. “Limitless. Unbounded by gravity. Like freedom.”

For a while, they sit quietly, gently swinging in their seats. He knows that name signs are given, and they can comprise of a person’s initials or a dominant personality trait, but to compare him to such splendour - for all his self assurance, he is unable to fathom what Link sees in him, to think he deserves the same designation as the sky.

The winds rustle, carrying a peaceful solemnity as they pass. The glow of the moon leaves vestiges of clarity in his mind, and he knows though secrets are many and words go unspoken, the moon is privy to it all. Revali alternates his glances between the night sky and the boy beside him, and there is no question which he finds more ethereal. Lovers across time and infinity, falling in love under the same sky - he is all too conscious about his steady descent.


	7. whisk until stiff peaks form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali attempts assimilation, ft dinner at Urbosa & Daruk's

A pattern gradually develops.

Every morning en route to his confectionery, Revali crosses the road at the T-junction to walk on Link’s side of the street. Some days he sees him placing freshly baked goods out in the display window, beaming as brightly as the sun when he notices Revali; other days he is busy in the kitchen and Revali only gets to see Zelda behind the counter with a polite smile and wave. He easily decides he prefers the former.

Then he stops by Mipha’s shop, where he will say a quick good morning before crossing over to his side of the street. The first time he does so, she had the audacity to look surprised. Is it so shocking that he can play nice without ulterior motives? A few days after that when she sees him approaching from the direction of Link’s bakery, her insightful nature takes hold - one time, she asks _how is Link?_ in a teasing tone, and Revali remembers sputtering before begrudgingly huffing, how should he know.

He opens up shop as per his original morning routine. He bakes his morning batch of general bakes for walk-in customers, fills a box with half a dozen of them, and brings it over to Link and Zelda’s. In return, they trade him Link’s daily flavour special. Revali always makes a point to squint suspiciously at the paper bag. In the beginning, they tell him the ingredients included to assure him it is entirely safe and edible, but after the time he picks up on a hint of a spice they neglected to mention, they start making him guess the ingredients. So everyday since then, Revali brings whatever Link makes him back to his confectionery, pretends he does not care for it, then consuming it the moment Link and Zelda are too occupied to pay attention to him. He jots down the flavours he tastes on a stack of loose sheets to later recount to Link and check if he missed anything, almost like doing the daily crossword.

Then he goes about his day completing orders for his clients, taking in more commissions. When lunch time rolls around, he is rarely alone. Some days it’s with Mipha and some takeaway, just like old times, when Link and Zelda are forced to delay their lunch break. Some days it’s all four of them paying Urbosa and Daruk’s bar and grill the next block down a visit - no bar, just grill, of course. Some days when Zelda’s father and Mipha’s brother are in the area - coincidentally, he notes, always on the same days, they must have a very similar calendar - he and Link have lunch together.

Those are his favourite days, seldom as they come, and though it is clear the girls were not spending lunch time with their family, he buys into their excuses. Occasionally he even asks Mipha how her brother is faring, if only to tease and watch her squirm.

Post-lunch, he returns to his confectionery and the work day proceeds. Clients come in and out, sometimes he is so lost in his work he forgets how different his life has become.

His habit of staying in his confectionery past normal closing time does not change - what is he supposed to do at home anyway? waste away worrying about the tasks he could be completing? - but Link’s evening walks are moved ahead of time day by day. That works in Revali’s favour. Truth be told, he no longer thinks his body is capable of sustaining too many late nights in a row.

Some evenings, Link drops by immediately after he closes up shop to ask Revali if he has any preferences for dinner that day, makes the trip to the nearby grocery store, and returns to his confectionery to cook them dinner - in _Revali’s_ kitchen nonetheless, so much for first and last time.

Occasionally when Revali is sure his evening workload would be lesser than usual, he makes a note to bring any ingredients from home that he does not have at his confectionery, and when Link drops by he is able to smugly tell him that he has already planned for dinner that day. Often times Link joins him in the kitchen, insisting he can help with whatever dish Revali has in mind. Sometimes Revali lets him, sometimes he doesn’t and has to deal with a pair of puppy eyes and pouts from across the countertop. Sometimes when Revali is making a dish from his hometown, he is more adamant that Link stay out of his way, and he always seems happy to stand aside and observe.

Sometimes Link stays out of the kitchen entirely, making himself comfortable at the tables outside, drawing up what he calls ‘lesson plans’ for Revali. He has more or less taken over Mipha’s role as Revali’s sign language tutor, which works favourably with all the time they spend together now. His progress has significantly improved, but he finds he is in less of a need for the language now that Link is more comfortable with verbally speaking to him - rarely when they are in crowded places, but he slips readily into it when it is just the two of them.

Revali recalls asking him at some point if he is neglecting his friendship with Zelda, seeing as they are housemates and if Link is here having dinner with him, it implies she is stuck having her meals alone. This is how he discovers the true extent of Link’s appetite. Dinner with Revali is ‘dinner part one’ while dinner with Zelda when he gets home is ‘dinner part two’. And what of the times he lingers after dinner instead of going home? Apparently in addition to the privacy his housemate enjoys having while researching, she also enjoys having privacy when Mipha is over, and some things… Link wishes he has never seen.

“Ah, so you’re only here because your housemate kicked you out.”

“ _No!_ ”

He remembers Link becoming more flustered than he usually does when he teases him, and the air between them is laden with words that go unspoken, but Revali quickly remarks how Mipha indeed seems to be more distracted and less available these days, and the conversation is safely diverted.

Some evenings when neither of them are in the mood for cooking, they order takeaway to share. If the hour is not too late when their stomachs are filled, they take a stroll around the block. The park is a common end destination. If they are early enough and there are still a handful of children at the playground, they settle onto one of the park benches, watching the children play and the sun dip lower in the horizon. When the swings are occupied, Revali imagines being seated in them again like that night all those months ago; when they are not, the urge to occupy them never fails to sneak up on him, a whisper in his ear trying to convince him the winds his hair would feel good. He doesn’t, of course.

Once or twice they take the long route back to his apartment, peering into the shop windows along the way. Mixed in with the crowd of other folk who have just gotten off work, Revali can almost see the two of them in a foreign place, in some other town or city far away from here, playing the role of tourists. He supposes it wouldn’t be half bad, to leave Hyrule City the same way he left Rito Village, though he has no clue where he might go if he does leave.

There is always a feeling of anxiety and dread when they approach his apartment. Link has never gone further than the lobby, and part of him worries one day he might ask to see his rooms. He has nothing to hide, but it feels so… exposing, to allow someone entry into a space so intimate. There is comfort in knowing Link can be kept away from the walls that witness his dreams and tears and erratic heartbeats.

Day after day the routine develops, and if routines insinuate anything, it is the domestic connotation that comes hand in hand with it.

In the same way Kaneli used to prepare the table for two when he returned from school, Revali now prepares the table for two when he is expecting dinner with Link. In the same way his parents used to - though this was a very, very long time ago - make pointless jabs at each other for the sake of filling the silence, Revali now becomes too comfortable with making sarcastic remarks out of nowhere when it gets too quiet.

As of late, there are far too many nights where he loses sleep wondering if, in the same way his family tore itself apart with half truths and full lies, he would also unintentionally shatter this bond he has with Link with his lack of transparency.

The biggest mistake Link has committed thus far is designate him the sign of the skies. When the skies change colours it is in plain sight for all to see, and when it rains and thunders there is lightning that precedes. What is Revali, but a coward who hides behind a prideful front.

One morning finds Revali breaking this pattern.

Nothing remarkable or phenomenal, he is simply exhausted from a restless night, barely getting in a few hours of sleep before sunrise. Already late to open up shop, he does not make the effort to cross the street and greet his friends. Thankfully, it does not appear any clients have showed up in that time, so at least his confectionery’s image has not taken a hit. He supposes it is also fortunate that tomorrow is his day off, so sleeping in wouldn’t be an issue.

He has never felt such a strong craving for coffee - or anything that contains even traces of caffeine, really. Unfortunately, it looks like the earliest he can get his hands on some is lunch time. Maybe he can convince whoever is joining him for lunch to dine at a café. Hylia only knows he needs a triple shot of espresso to make up for the one he missed in the morning.

Link trots up next to him as he is fumbling with the keys to enter his confectionery, his blondness especially augmented in the morning sun, catching Revali’s attention even out of the corner of his eye.

He must have appeared out of sorts when Link extends an invitation to dinner at the bar and grill that night, because when he eventually registers his own parted lips and blank stare, Link is waving a hand in front of him, puzzled.

“Hm?”

“ _I said, Mipha is joining us too._ ”

It takes him a moment to recognize Mipha’s name sign that Link has taught him some weeks back - hilariously the sign for ‘fish’, because young Link was much less sophisticated and Mipha finds it amusing enough to refuse an updated version of it.

“I - that is great news. You need not use her as leverage, I will be attending.”

“ _Good._ ” Link instantly brightens. A quick goodbye and he is dashing back to his side of the street, leaving Revali still trying to blink the fatigue from his eyes and find the correct key.

Oh, the woes of being born young in weary bones.

Cut to dinner time, he has more or less worn off the exhaustion from the lack of sleep, but now the physical lethargy of having worked the entire day is catching up on him, and he wonders if he would still be able to make the walk back home if he orders another Noble Pursuit.

Of course, that does not stop him from hailing a waiter and placing his order.

“You would do well to remember only the first round is on the house, Revali. Second drink onwards is placed on your tab,” Urbosa remarks.

“Yes, yes, I am aware.”

The tables at Urbosa and Daruk’s bar and grill are fairly large, but with the six of them wedged together in the corner spot, coupled with Daruk’s size and Urbosa’s stature, it is beginning to feel a bit crammed. The overhanging light sways gently above them and Revali feigns a sudden interest in its design, peering at it instead of meeting Urbosa’s eyes from the other corner of the table.

He is seated at the so-called aisle seat of their cubicle with Link between Daruk and himself, whereas the ladies sat across from them, but even as Urbosa is pressed seemingly uncomfortably against the wall, it does nothing to take the edge off her steely gaze. There is nothing wrong with ordering another drink and paying for it, and it isn’t as if they are in the middle of a work day - besides, she should be thrilled to learn he enjoys her house blend even with his critic taste buds. But Urbosa exerts an intimidating aura. If she says white, Revali would think twice before arguing black.

So while the remark she made would sound like a reminder to someone less acquainted with her, he senses it is more of a warning not to exceed this second drink. No matter, that one incident where he had apparently flirted quite shamelessly with Link a few drinks in would not repeat itself. Though to be fair, he cannot remember for the life of him the exact words he had said in his drunkenness, so perhaps Urbosa is not too harsh with her caution.

“Anyway, as I was saying, young Yunobo is really shining on the grills. It makes me feel better knowing I can retire in peace with him taking over.”

“But Daruk, you are not that close to retirement age. Do you have any plans for when you do leave?” asks Zelda.

“Hmm, I’m considering heading back to Goron City for a bit. It’d be good to see the place again now that I have more years and experience on my side. There are some things you would only learn to appreciate when you’re older, you know?”

Zelda nods.

Next to her and directly across from Revali, Mipha nods along. Times like this he realizes just how alike they are, as if they had been created identical but raised ever so differently that one is more uninhibited while the other is reserved. It sort of reminds him of Link and himself - he is clearly the uninhibited one between them.

The food arrives served by the chef himself. Revali’s mouth spontaneously waters at the sight of the roast, sauce glistening and thick, steam still wafting off of it as it is set on the table. Daruk lets out a hearty cheer at Yunobo, whom Revali has met a couple of times now, though between their differing personalities and work schedules, he has never attempted personally conversing with the boy.

“Great job, Yunobo! I dare say this roast would taste even better than my own!” Daruk booms.

The boy scratches the back of his head sheepishly, all grins but otherwise lacking the confidence Revali would expect from someone who is presenting a creation of their own.

“It’s all thanks to your teachings, grandpa. Plus, with the cooking genes you passed down to me, anything I put on the grill is sure to turn out delicious!”

That last part is obviously a joke, but it causes Revali to shift uneasily in his seat. He certainly would never attribute his accomplishments to an ancestor who had played no actual part in aiding him. Though, he supposes Yunobo does have a headstart with his grandfather being a reputable chef with plenty of restaurants branched across the region for him to perfect his cooking skills.

“I can’t imagine how nice it must be, to have something to your name even when you’ve done nothing to merit it. How old is Yunobo again? College age? Younger?”

Daruk frowns at him.

“He isn’t getting the place just because he’s my grandson.”

“Oh? Then pray tell, would you have given him the same opportunity to hone his skills if he wasn’t related to you?”

“Of course!”

He continues as if Daruk had not spoken. “Because it seems to me with the poor boy’s bashfulness and indolence, he never would have landed a position like this elsewhere. Not without his family pulling some strings, at least.”

“Revali,” Urbosa chides, “How long do you expect us to put up with your prattling, huh?”

He clicks his tongue irritably. What is it about the privileged that automatically triggers them to defend their own?

“You’re one to speak. As I know it, your niece is set for life even at her age since she would be inheriting your shares in the alcohol industry. What is so different between her and Yunobo? What has she done to deserve the easy life others had to work for?”

If he notices Urbosa’s gaze has now darkened dangerously, it does not compare with his sense of justice feeding fuel to his anger. The blood in his ears is a thundering noise, and suddenly the effects of two Noble Pursuits and the day’s exhaustion fades.

What had _any_ of his companions at the table done to deserve the easy life they have? Both Urbosa and Daruk had their wealth passed down from their respective families, the reason they had the capital to become entrepreneurs in the first place. Mipha runs a humble flower shop far from home, but he knows behind her lies a maritime corporation empire in the palms of her father, and they are merely waiting on her brother’s graduation for him to formally take over the company. Even Zelda, whom he knows has worked hard for the bakery she manages with Link, had initial funding from her father to start her off - and should she ever require, her father’s legacy is always available for her to fall back on.

Faintly, he hears her worried voice saying, “Revali, what has gone into you?”

A scoff escapes him, or maybe a dry laugh, he isn’t sure anymore. “I suppose we weren’t all born in greenhouses, hm?”

When did he stand up?

The bar and grill feels both overheating and chilly at the same time. He is staring straight ahead, eyes wide open yet all he sees is a blur of the restaurant walls. His hands clench into fists, and they itch to feel something, to feel pressure, to exert force. His chest feels tight. Deep breath in, deep breath out. It takes so much effort to simply breathe, and every breath of air he exhales comes out _wrong_.

He storms out.

He storms out, and for the first time, he and the skies are one.


	8. lemon boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali is a coward when it comes to matters of the heart, but Link has no shortage of courage

Revali sees and hears the storm before he feels it - a canopy of grey clouds looming above, the distant rolling of thunder accompanied by the deafening roar of the downpour. The raindrops pelter harshly like pins prickling his skin and the strong winds bring to mind equally strong memories of his hometown. With the pooling of rain where drainage is inadequate, the streets begin to flood. His shoes are instantly soaked through when he steps out onto the pavement.

There is a sense of irony as a pedestrian nearly barrels into him, their hurriedness in escaping the storm a notable distinction compared to his calmness as he steps out into it.

A sense of irony as he realizes the people he has surrounded himself with are precisely the type he disapproves of, the types that are dependent on what they have received through inheritance.

The idea of inheritance is a joke. A ludicrous farce. In an attempt to give posterity a better, easier life, the privileged deprive their children of essential life skills they would have otherwise learned, while the ones who are not their own are deprived of equal opportunities. Revali has spent his life working hard to accomplish what those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth were handed out of the womb. And now, he realizes he has spent so much of his time on his work that he has nothing else to show for himself.

What has happened to the little joys in life? He always thought a life centered around work with perfection would be fulfilling, but it has not turned out to be the case. Now the pride he feels when he presents his creations dulls in comparison to the anticipation of spending time with Link each day.

So when Link exits the bar and grill soon after him and gives him chase, he feels relief. He is thankful that it is not a staff of the restaurant rushing out to remind him to pay his tab, or worse, if it’s Mipha, then he will have to talk about his feelings.

In the time it takes for Revali to make his way back to his apartment, he discovers several things.

One, the effort it takes to heave his feet through water exceeds the effort it takes to avoid slipping.

Two, Link has more strength and stamina than he does.

Three, despite being wrenched from behind, there is still the possibility of falling on one’s front.

He does not even register the fall until his palms slam flat against the pavement. The attempt to brace the rest of his body from the impact sends jolts of electricity through his nerves, and the part of his wrist where Link has gripped on feels as though the skin is burning. The bits of gravel and stone digging into the flesh of his palms draw blood, and he knows his hands will suffer the most out of this.

No dextrous work for the following days, then.

He slumps to rest on his knees, laughing bitterly. Even in the pouring rain with sore hands and a heavy head, the first thing that comes to mind, the first thing that he is concerned about is  _ work _ . His arms fall limp to the side. Is there truly nothing else that matters in his life?

“Revali.”

Link slows his footsteps as he approaches, careful not to splash any water on him, though it wouldn’t make a difference - he is already drenched from head to toe, and the rain has long since seeped through the layers of his clothes.

Link crouches next to him, his brows furrowed in a frown. “Revali,” he repeats, voice nearly drowned out by the storm.

“Leave me alone.” He will be fine, he will manage, just as he has always done so.

“Please, I -”

“Stop it. Whatever you came to say, save your breath. I don’t need your sympathy.”

“Why are you like this?” Link says sharply. “I’m not pitying you.”

“Why am I like this? Why am I like  _ what _ , Link? Stuck up? Arrogant? Narcissistic? Which variation of the term do you prefer?”

He wishes he could will more edge into his voice, sound angrier as he normally is when people choose to explore their vocabulary and pick an adjective for his strong personality. But right now, right then, he almost regrets saying those words out loud. He doesn’t want to know which term Link would choose.

“None of those! I’m not here to criticize you for being yourself. I would never criticize you for that.” Link’s voice cracks a little, and when he reaches out to hold his hand and Revali instinctively flinches away, he feels guilty for causing the hurt that flashes briefly in his eyes. “I just want to understand what’s in your mind, because you hardly - you hardly ever share your feelings.”

“I have shared more with you than I have with any other person.”

And it’s true. He has shared so much of himself with Link, he feels he might soon run out of things to share, and then - what then?

“Not your feelings. You have shared your thoughts with me, but I want to know how you’re feeling too. I -” Those blue eyes are wide with plea and Revali thinks for once, he might just indulge in any request he asks of him. “I want to know all of you.”

For all the stares directed their way as they enter the lobby and take the elevator up to his apartment, Revali doesn’t feel uneasy. He is tired and he is numb, but Link’s presence brings a comforting atmosphere. It is as if he could do anything and trust that Link would have his back.

If he sees Link shooting a quick text on his phone, he does not comment on it. Someone has to report back to the others about the state of his wellbeing, and he had rather it be Link who does it in his stead so he does not have to do it himself.

It has been a long time since Revali had to share a bed with another, and this particular mattress in his apartment has never felt more than his own weight. Despite the throbbing headache and comfort of his bed, he does not fall asleep immediately. It hasn’t been too long since they switched the lights off, just long enough that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and he can now make out the outline of Link’s form under the blanket out of the corner of his eye.

It is strange. He doesn’t think sharing a bed and blanket with another person would be comfortable, but even with his legs rigid and arms folded to avoid crossing his half of the bed, he feels peace.

“I meant what I said just now, in the rain.”

If Revali had any energy remaining he would raise an eyebrow at him. Instead, he settles for waiting for Link to continue.

“I would never fault you for being yourself. It’s one of the reasons I admire you. You’ve never been ashamed to share your thoughts even from the first day we met.”

Revali cringes at the memory of their first encounter with each other.

“To be fair, my rule of thumb is everything on a cake should be edible.”

“You use fondant on your cakes,” Link says pointedly.

“Fondant  _ is _ edible.”

Link chuckles and Revali shoves the rest of his fondant argument away for another time.

“Like I was saying, you have never been afraid to share your opinions. I don’t think I could be like that without caring about what other people think of me, even if I convince myself it doesn’t matter what they think.” Link shifts to lie on his side. “Every moment I spend with you, I am in awe at your courage to be so shamelessly yourself.”

Revali tries to laugh but instead it sounds like a wheeze.

“I don’t know, Link, you might be the only person who likes - who thinks that way.” He pauses, wondering if he is bringing the conversation a step too deep than he should. He thinks back to what Link had said about never criticizing him for being himself, and decides this is as good a time as any. “Besides, don’t make promises you can’t keep. One day you might discover being myself is the worst I can be, then we will both be disappointed.”

He tries to make it sound lighthearted, but Hylia, it has been such a long day and he is both physically and emotionally drained, and his voice only sounds empty.

He shuts his eyes to wait for a reply. When it doesn’t come, he wonders if he has finally said too much.

Some time in the middle of the night, Revali wakes up in a sweat. His headache from earlier has subsided, but his forehead is clammy and cool to the touch.

He rolls around in bed and isn’t all too surprised to find Link watching him, eyes half-lidded. The corner of Link’s lips tug upwards and his heart clenches.

It is painfully domestic. Revali could nearly see the silhouette of a child trying to climb into his parents’ bed because it was warmer compared to sleeping alone.

“Is lying by omission a crime?” Hazily, the question comes out of its own accord. The time he spends waiting for a response feels like an eternity. He lies there, blurry-eyed with the sensations of the storm still a ghostly touch against his skin, waiting. When he no longer expects Link to say anything, he answers his own question. “Because it feels like it is.”

It feels like a confession. Heavy implications that he has things to admit, but not now, and if he could have it his way, not ever.

The silence stretches out in the space between them. There is tension in the bright blue eyes holding his gaze, tension that Revali is too worn out to acknowledge. He closes his eyes, tucking the blanket into the crook of his neck, and ever so slightly shift closer.

He is about to drift away into slumber once more when Link’s voice comes as a low rumble, a murmur in his ear, laced with sleep and something tender.

“Whatever you want to tell me, you can tell me at your own pace, when you’re ready.”

But what if he is never ready?

Come morning, Revali wakes to the aroma of nuts wafting through his apartment. For a split second, he thinks he has forgotten to shut the windows before going to sleep, and the smell of what is undeniably nutcakes is originating from another apartment. Sitting up, he spies Link by the kitchen island with his back towards him. The sunlight filtering in through the window encompasses him in a halo, and he is… glowing.

A timer goes off and Link’s hand swiftly darts out to turn it off. Revali watches as he bends and reaches into the oven. When he stands again it is with a tray of muffins.

Link turns around and his face lights up with a soft smile upon spotting Revali awake. Even in boxer briefs and messy bed hair, he is easily the most ethereal being Revali has ever laid eyes on.

“Good morning.” Link’s voice is scratchy, and Revali subconsciously bites his lip. Placing the tray on the kitchen counter, he wipes his hands clean before making his way to Revali, who is still partially bundled up under the covers.

Revali shuffles over to make space for him.

“How are you feeling?” Link asks quietly.

He feels… he feels as though he is about to suffocate on the humidity of the room. Link is so full of kindness and empathy and selflessness, what on earth is he doing here catering to Revali in his own studio apartment? He could be -  _ should _ be spending his time with people who are like him. People who are overall better individuals than Revali. He doesn’t deserve him. Not as a friend, and definitely not as whatever their relationship seems to be progressing into.

“Revali?” he asks again, concern written plainly on his face.

He takes another moment to simply stare at Link. He wants so desperately to lean in, to feel flesh on flesh, to have no space exist between them. To simply touch him.

But he cannot.

He cannot. He knows salvation would be lost to him if he allows himself such liberation.

“I’m alright,” he croaks, glancing away.

The air is stifling. Revali begins shuffling out from beneath the blanket to put some distance between them. He is about to move towards the edge of the bed when Link catches his wrist and holds it down.

He fixes his gaze where Link’s fingers are wrapped around his wrist, his grip rougher and more urgent initially as if afraid Revali would leave and never return, but it quickly morphs into a gentler touch.

He chances a look at Link, and he is frowning at him.

“I’m worried about you.”

Revali unwittingly lets out a dry laugh.

“You sound like Mipha.”

Hylia, he does, doesn’t he? It takes him saying it out loud to be reminded of their relationship. They grew up together and have remained close friends. Revali isn’t surprised at their similar lines, but now the thought of Mipha has entered his mind, he cannot help the way it spirals into compatible Link and Mipha are, how it makes no sense that they weren’t a couple, and what if he’s the one standing between them, and then, how dare he think so highly of himself as if he would be important enough to keep them apart.

Even as he is aware of how ridiculous his thoughts are becoming, it happens anyway. It flashes in his mind, visions of Link with another person going through life together, journeying across the great wide world, content and fulfilled in a way Revali does not think he would be able to provide. He sees Link with someone who is able to convey their feelings appropriately, someone who is able to show their affections through soft and kind words instead of taunts and sarcasm. He sees Link, happy, but with another person who is not him. And who is he to hold Link back from all that?

“I think we should put some distance between us.”

He doesn’t have to look to know Link has his stunned little expression on, slack jaw and wide eyes and everything.

“What, like... physically?” Link laughs nervously.

“And emotionally.”

“What - why?”

“Why? Because I’m afraid.” He locks his gaze with the boy before him, eyes so wide he thinks they might bulge out of their sockets, and when he speaks it is with a quiver in his tone. “I am horrified at the prospect that one day I will say something too harsh or insensitive and you realize you don’t actually like me. I am horrified that you will think I’ve been hiding from you when I have been myself all this time.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I will be the first to say it. Whatever we are becoming - because even with my lack of experience in this domain, I recognize normal friendships don’t feel the same way ours does - whatever we are becoming, you deserve more than what I can give you.”

“What exactly is it you think you are unable to give me?”

So many things.

So many things, but for starters -

“Love.”

“Why?”

“I cannot give you what I’ve never had, Link.”

Link stares back at him, and he thinks perhaps it is for the best he simply stares and doesn’t question him further. He stares, gaze imploring, but oh, where does Revali start even if he wants to tell him?

The memories?

His father by the door, brushing a strand of hair from his mother’s face as she kisses him goodbye before work, with a weak jab claiming she has morning breath. His mother gone for months at a time, but Revali is too young to ask the right questions. His father towering over him by the kitchen sink, giving him choices he doesn’t want to make.  _ Do you want to come live with me or your mother? Revali, answer me. _ Up until that point he has never felt true fear, and it is in his favourite room in the house with the people who were supposed to shield him from harm. But eventually he doesn’t have to choose when there is nothing to choose from.

The realization that comes after?

Young Revali watching all this take place, and how would he have known that he alone has to bear all this weight, that the universe would merely stand aside and expect him to rise from the ashes of his family’s history and simply move on. Young Revali refusing to hear Kaneli’s attempts at explaining why his parents weren’t around, because whatever he tells him could never justify their years of abandonment.

The resentment and grudge he still holds?

He knows there are many across the world with similar experiences as his, but it does not lessen the immensity of the pain. He does not deserve this. Nobody does. At age seven he thinks the universe owes him a debt for putting him through all that suffering, and now he has gone through enough winters and Valentine’s and birthdays to know this is a debt the universe does not care to repay.

He wants to think Link is a literal godsend. Compensation for all the missed parent-teacher conferences, the missed family dinners with more than two seats occupied.

He wants so desperately to think Link is meant for him, made for him, because how else could his empathy be explained? How is it that of all the people who have entered and exited his life, Link is the only one who does not flinch or retract when his words are thorned and barbed? How is it that Link is the only one who notices his extroverted nature is only openness to his mind and not his heart? How is it that Link is the only person who sees through his proud facade, his egotistical mask, and never once indicated he should change to fit in, to appease and please others?

The immensity of his desire to claim Link as compensation for all his childhood misery disgusts him.

He cannot. How could he? How does one knowingly deprive another of their happiness in order to fill their own void?

Where does he start with all that information, he doesn’t know, but he does end up spilling all of it, in word vomits and waterfall tears, and when his breathlessness forces him to stop and take in air, he only registers he is gripping onto Link’s hands, holding on so tightly that they blanch.

“If my own happiness comes at the cost of another person’s, then I don’t want it. And I never want it to be at the cost of yours, because then I wouldn’t be any different from my parents.”

Revali’s voice is hoarse, and it is only then he realizes his throat burns and his nose is clogged and he has been gasping all this while. The crying is only noticed a second later when the wind from the fan chills the streaks left behind by his tears, now collecting at the bottom of his chin, dripping onto the sheets.

“How are you not different from your parents?” Link almost sounds incredulous. “You are aware of your actions and the consequences they might bring, that is already leagues better than your parents ever were. I know -” he inhales sharply, “I know you think all your flaws are the mess they left behind, but you are your own person, and you can choose to be better than them. You  _ are _ better them.”

“I  _ know _ I am better than them, Link. I know. But only because I don’t have a relationship and a family that I might potentially destroy. Do you understand? If I allow myself to be with you…” He trails off.

“You might hurt me?”

Revali nods, over and over until he slumps forward, holding his head in his hands. The sheets are damp where his tears and snot are smeared, and now his headache has returned as well.

He is exhausted. Eyes closed, he could fall asleep right there, right then.

“I won’t pretend the possibility doesn’t exist,” Link says quietly. “I might hurt you too.”

Silence, and Revali thinks this is it, the conclusion he claims he wants yet is disappointed when it happens. The gutting feeling he expects doesn’t come. How underwhelming, to have something die off so unimpressively. Maybe he should take up retirement early and leave the city.

Link wraps his hands around his own, raising his head back up to look at him. When he wipes his tears away, the callouses on his thumbs are the roughest he has ever been with Revali, physically or otherwise.

“But we can make better choices than your parents. The decisions they made are theirs. We are not them. Our choices are our own, and should we ever end up as they did, we will have the courage to pick up responsibility and manage the consequences.”

Revali opens his mouth to argue, though he has no clue what he would say. It just felt impossible.

“If you think you don’t have the courage for that, you have your stubbornness to make up for it.” Link says it with a bleak chuckle, and Revali finds himself choking out a laugh as well. “Besides, I have plenty of courage for both of us.”

Link leans forward and for a moment Revali thinks he might kiss him, but he only pulls Revali close to rest their heads against each other.

This is likely the best outcome. He lacks the energy to process this confession. Is it a confession? Revali sighs. Link feels warm, and that is the only input his mind is accepting.

That’s fine. He sinks into the touch.

A tearful kiss probably wouldn’t feel good anyway.

Revali doesn’t remember falling asleep again, but when he wakes he is glad he did. There is still a faint throbbing in his temples, and all he wants is to continue lying down.

“Are you hungry?” Link mumbles.

Revali makes a noise he hopes Link will interpret as yes.

Thankfully, he does. Link untangles them from each other, and the immediate loss of warmth makes him regret his answer.

“Be right back.”

He shifts to lean against a propped-up pillow. Link returns a moment later with a plate of the muffins he had baked in the morning. Revali’s stomach grumbles, and he realizes he has not eaten since lunch the day before. No wonder he feels lethargic.

The muffins taste delicious, as everything Link bakes turns out to be. For all the meticulous technique and skill Revali has honed over the years, he can never replicate the homely flair that accompanies Link’s cooking. He wonders if there is truly a difference in taste, or if food simply tastes nicer when someone else prepares it. He wonders if Link feels the same way about his cooking.

The sun hangs high in the cloudless sky, and they stay in bed longer than they should.

Revali hasn’t had a lazy afternoon in ages. He loathes to admit it, but it feels pleasant to lie in bed with no obligations for the day, even if the said bed is probably the filthiest it has ever been. He really has to wash the sheets. It is still damp in places, and he is certain he has dropped at least one piece of nut somewhere.

He watches as Link boldly toys with one of his braids. Link asks him his favourite colour, and Revali answers blue.

“Like this shade?” Link asks, gently bringing his braid before him.

He likes the shade of his hair well enough, but it is not his favourite.

“Lighter,” he replies.

Lighter, like the shade of blue staring back at him. Revali has found the source of all the tenderness in the world, and he is right there in front of him.

Revali abruptly props himself up on an elbow.

“Sit up,” he tells Link, who is clearly confused but obeys nonetheless.

Shuffling over to his bedside table, he retrieves the box he keeps his beads and ribbons in. He inspects the contents carefully, picking two equal-length ribbons that have the closest shade of blue to Link’s eyes, then some beads the shade of his own.

He settles back on the bed beside Link and simply begins to comb through the golden locks he has seen so many times from afar but is only now feeling them between his fingers. Like silk, almost.

Revali weaves a ribbon into each braid, the way he has braided his own hair all his life. Link is watching him out of the corner of his eye, holding still as he works.

“You mentioned you want to see the world, so this is me sharing a bit of my culture with you,” he swallows deeply. “I came from a small village far northwest of here. It is cold all year round, so most of us would grow our hair out to retain more warmth. But the summer season is always warmer, so to keep our hair out of the way, a tradition that has been passed through generations is the braiding of hair with ribbon. It’s considered an act of intimacy to braid another’s hair. Parents would braid their children’s hair, married couples would braid one another’s hair, as would -” He releases the finished braid, and Link shifts to face him. “As would people -” His breath catches and he feels as though he would choke. “As would people in a confession of love.”

There. It’s out.

His tears threaten to well up again, but he wills himself to clench and unclench his teeth and wait. Link is holding his gaze, and he wants nothing more than to know what is in his mind right now.

Then he smiles, and if Revali has not already wanted to spend a million sunrises and a million sunsets with this boy, he certainly does now. Anywhere he would go, Revali would gladly go with him.

When Link closes the distance between them and his eyes flutter close, and all he tastes is  _ home _ , he wonders how he ever doubted Link could love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell sad and insecure Revali is my favourite Revali? I know the fandom consensus is his parents died and he is adopted, but I like to think his parents' absence played a part in him later becoming who he is.
> 
> Thank you for following this story to the end. I might write an epilogue, might write a Zelpha fic for this AU, might turn this into a collection, but don't hold your breath. Leave a comment if you enjoyed this. I always read and appreciate all your comments, even though I never know what to reply.


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